


Red

by ConnorTheTwink (FiveHargreevesNeedsAHug)



Series: Detroit Oneshots [12]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: AR stands for android repairs, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Has PTSD, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Needs a Hug, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Whump, DR400 is basically just a doctor android lol, Depressed Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Poor Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Poor Sumo, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Unstable Connor, amanda is just mentioned by connors unstable ass btw, connor has like 0 self esteem and self worth, hes basically just an android paramedic, i also wrote this at like 9pm so uhh sorry for mistakes, i know nothing about medical stuff oop, my weird adhd formatting, nacho is a good cat, oc is called Ryan, self-depreciation, so this is probably really inaccurate to real life!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:41:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25735960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FiveHargreevesNeedsAHug/pseuds/ConnorTheTwink
Summary: Connor needs emergency repairs.
Relationships: Connor (Detroit: Become Human) & Original Male Character(s)
Series: Detroit Oneshots [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1118754
Comments: 31
Kudos: 84





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> so i was inspired to write something sad and angsty, again! and this time it turned into a depressed self-destructive connor needing an ambulance oop
> 
> this is told entirely through the oc ryan's perspective BUT i may add a second chapter from connors perspective in the future, bc i like it when he's sad uwu
> 
> trigger warnings for self-harm, as that is why concon needs to go to the hospital poor bb ;w;

It wasn't often Ryan got calls like this. Most jobs were violence related. Even after 2 years since the revolution, human on android crime was still _rife_.

He knew cases like this existed. A _lot_ of androids who'd been around prior and during the revolution had trauma. Ryan himself was included. But this? 

He hadn't been expecting this.

He'd discovered the patient in the bathroom, curled up beside the bathtub, room murky black, illuminated only by the other androids vibrant red LED. He approached them with caution, pushing the door open as quietly as possible, knuckles rapping lightly against the wood, trying to alert them of his presence.

They didn't shift from their position.

Ryan's lips thinned into a line as he scanned the room.

Nothing seemed out of place, aside from the android curled up in the corner. He kept an eye on their quivering form as he ran his analysis, allowing the information to flood his HUD within the span of a few seconds.

Post-it notes were stuck all over the mirror. Human writing, mostly. There were a few, written in perfect CyberLife Sans that he could only assume had been written by this android. "It's not your fault." "The future is bright." "You're perfect to me." 

Ryan's lips quirked into a ghost of a smile as his eyes flicked over them. That smile dropped as soon as he returned his attention to his patient. 

He couldn't see much of them. They were curled too tightly in on themselves, head buried in their arms, clothes baggy and distorting their frame.

From the information he'd been supplied, he knew this android was an RK800 model, a prototype. And that they were reportedly in a state of high instability.

Ryan had confirmed the latter within milliseconds.

"Hello." He settled at the RK800's side, not too close, not too far. He didn't want to distress them any further. "My name is Ryan. I'm a DR400 and I'm here to help you." Pause. The RK800 gave no reaction to his words, looking at their arms, he could see thirium staining the sleeves of the hoodie they wore.

Ryan felt his thirium pump tighten within his chest. "You're an RK800, right? A prototype?" Another pause, Ryan's gaze lingered on the bloodied sleeves, he could see the other androids shoulders shaking. "Hey, hey. Look at me, look at me alright?" His touch was gentle as he set a hand on the others shoulder, trying to grab their attention, squeezing them gently. "I'm here to help. You're hurt, aren't you?" Pause. Their eyes were upon him, rimmed with fresh lubricant tears, brown irises blurred with the liquid. 

Ryan could see their face now. 'They' weren't a they. This was a _he_. A male android. The information didn't change much, but it comforted Ryan to know. Especially since he knew little about his model.

"Did you do this to yourself?" He gestured to the others arms, to the thirium soaking the sleeves and the floor beneath them. He received a nod in response. "Okay. Can you tell me your thirium levels?"

The RK800 was silent for a moment, before parting his lips, speaking, words thick with static, voice pained and hoarse. "Four… Fooooourty one percent." 

Fourth one. It wasn't lethal levels. Not yet. So long as Ryan could patch up the bleed, and get more thirium into this android he'd be fine. Physically, at least.

"What's your name?" Ryan let his hands drift to his bag, withdrawing a pouch of thirium. His eyes never left the others face, watching as his eyelids flickered in exhaustion, throat bobbing as he released a soft whimper. 

"Con-" Pause. "C-Connooor." 

Connor. He had a name now, good.

"Okay Connor, I'm going to need a closer look at you, so I can assess the damage. Is that okay? Can you remove your shirt for me?"

A shaky nod. Connor's eyes remained on him, although they seemed unfocused, a deep groan leaving his parted lips as he shifted to remove his clothing, eyes squeezing shut and face flickering with pain.

Whatever damage Connor had done to himself, judging from his reactions, it seemed _bad_.

"There we go…" Ryan's voice came out soft, gently taking a hold of the bloodstained garment as Connor held it out to him. "You're doing great, Connor. I'm just going to take a look at you now, alright?"

The other android had turned away. He was crying again. Ryan let his hand return to the others shoulder, thumb brushing over it in a soothing motion. "Hey, hey its alright." Despite the whirlwind of his mind, Ryan's voice retained a sense of calm, his gaze softening as it drifted to Connor's face momentarily, watching as his red LED continued to swirl at his temple.

"I'm sorry." The others voice was cracked, broken.

He sounded broken.

Ryan's thirium pump squeezed again. 

"Why are you sorry, Connor?" His eyes dropped to the others arms, frown deepening as he assessed the damage.

Cuts. 207 of them, exactly. Spanning across both forearms. Small, but deep. He'd severed multiple wires, multiple thirium lines. 

Connor only sobbed.

"Connor. Connor, look at me. You have _no_ reason to be sorry, okay?"

"I didn't-" Connor's voice cut off as he attempted to form words, head bowing as more cries wracked his frame. "I didn't mean to. I'm sorry." 

He said it again. And again. And again. And again.

"Connor." Ryan could no longer attract his attention. Whatever was plaguing the poor androids mind, had consumed him whole. Ryan knew he didn't have much time left to work. "Connor, I'm going to bandage your arms, it's going to hurt, but it'll help stem the bleed until we can cauterise the cuts."

Connor didn't respond to his words. Ryan could see his fingers twitching, burrowing into the fabric of his sweatpants, hands curling and uncurling. A nervous tic, Ryan presumed. Some kind of coping mechanism.

"I think your pets are eager to see you." He nodded in the direction of the bathroom door, face flickering briefly with amusement as the sound of the ever-present meowing. He'd met the cat on the way in. Had to ignore her, despite his desire to pet the little thing. The dog had been sitting outside the door the entire time, completely silent, but those big brown eyes had never left the door.

"I think they're worried about you." He commented, retrieving a roll of duct tape from his bag. The equivalent to bandages for androids. "Yknow, if it wasn't for your cat, your neighbours wouldn't have called about you in the first place. She's a good cat."

Even as Ryan took a hold of his arms to bandage them, Connor's fingers still twitched.

"Her name is Nacho." 

Ryan's eyes flicked to the others face as he commented, letting his hands work on autopilot to finish wrapping the others wounds.

"She was trying to help but-" Pause. Connor choked back a sob. "But I locked her out. It's her job. She's supposed to help. She's supposed to help but I didn't let her. I didn't let her." 

He repeated the final sentence seven tines exactly, until his voice crackled out, trembling wails overtaking his frame again. 

It wasn't protocol, but, Ryan found himself bringing the other into a hug. 

"Its okay, Connor. _You're_ okay. We're gonna get you to a technician and they're gonna help you, alright-"

Ryan was cut off.

"Its not okay!" It was hard to decipher the others words, hard to hear him with clarity. Ryan just rubbed circles on his back. "Its not okay! I was supposed to tell Hank- But- But he wasn't here and I just panicked I didn't know what to do I was so scared and it _hurt_ it hurt so much, I didn't think, I didn't think and I-"

" _Connor._ " Ryan pulled the other closer, letting a hand come to rest in his hand, trying to do anything and everything to ease the RK800 into a state of calm. "Listen to me. Listen to my voice _breathe_."

Connor did as instructed, sucking in ragged breaths through his mouth. His frame trembled against Ryan's own. 

"That's it. In and out. Don't focus on anything else but that. Can I let your cat in? You said it's her job to help, right? She might help you to feel a bit better." 

A nod.

"I'm going to get up now and let her in okay. We need to stabilise your stress levels."

Another nod. Connor was focusing upon his breathing, eyes tight shut and arms wrapped loosely around himself, as if simulating the hug Ryan had just given him.

Ryan's audio processors were bombarded with meowing the moment he opened the door. "Hey there little lady." The cat - _Nacho_ \- paid him no attention as she sped past, straight to Connor, rubbing and nudging him as deep rumbling purrs vibrated through her small frame. "He's gonna be okay." He addressed both the cat and the dog as he spoke, reaching down to pat the latter on the head as he tried to nudge his way inside the room.

"Just need to calm him down a little." 

And Nacho's presence seemed to be doing just that.

The little cat was curled up in her androids arms, his face buried in the soft fur of her back, big blue eyes stared up at him in concern, head raised and butting against his chin. She continued to purr.

"Nacho can come with us, if you want, Connor. The AR doesn't mind animals, as long as they don't get in their way."

The brunette raised his head at the words, fingers drifting across Nacho's fur. "They don't?"

"No. They don't. A lot of our kind has a fondness for animals, they're happy to allow them if it helps the patient feel better."

Ryan smiled as a faint smile crept across Connor's face.

"Okay." Pause. Connors next words were muffled by his cat's ginger fur. "I'm sorry. You're a good girl. I'm sorry I locked you out." 

He could hear Nacho purr in response.

"I need to get you to the ambulance now Connor." Ryan hated interrupting them, but the RK800 was looking weaker by the minute, his limbs slackening and his eyelids drooping. "I'll administer you some thirium when we're inside, okay? It should make you feel a bit better."

Connor simply nodded, offering no resistance as Ryan helped him up, out of the house. He only produced noise at the sight of the dog - _Sumo_ , apparently- promptly bursting into tears the moment his eyes landed on him, spewing apologies from his mouth like a waterfall.

It hurt. To hear him like this. Ryan didn't know him, didn't know _anything_ about him. But seeing an android, a _man_ , this distressed made his pump squeeze in his chest, his throat bob as he swallowed his own emotions. 

He didn't know why Connor was so distressed. Didn't know what made him so unstable.

But it hurt to see it.

It hurt to know that others were still suffering this much, scared and broken enough to cause themselves harm like this. 

His arms twitched with the urge to pull the other back into a hug.

"I thought it was her." Connor's voice startled him as they walked out the door, fingers still curled in Nacho's fur, LED still red at his temple. "I just. I just saw her. She was talking to me." Pause. His eyes were distant, widened with fear. "I didn't know what to do. I was scared. She was there and- And telling me his worthless I am. And how _pathetic_ I am. And she wouldn't stop. She wouldn't _stop_."

Nacho produced a loud new as Connor's voice grew more and more distressed, his hands shaking once more, head shaking frantically from side to side.

"I needed her to stop but she wouldn't. I was scared." He repeated. "I didn't know what to do. I was scared."

He trailed into repetition and Ryan had to drown out his words in order to focus on his tasking, stabilizing the patient. Getting him into the ambulance. Getting him to the technician. Who could _properly_ help him.

He closed his eyes as he strapped the other android in, gently removing the cat from his arms, before settling her back onto his lap. 

Connor had stilled. His hands didn't resume their stroking.

"Connor?" He squeezed the others hand gently. "I'm going to give you some thirium now alright?" The RK800 didn't respond. His eyes stared into nothing. Ryan swallowed. "You'll feel a sharp prick in your arm- There we go. All done. You'll start to feel better soon."

It was a white lie and Ryan knew it. Physically, Connor would gain more energy. Feel less weak, less disoriented and confused.

Mentally?

Whatever was going on inside the others head, likely wouldn't stop anytime soon.

"They'll help you at the AR, Connor. You won't feel like this forever." He longed to interface, longed to _know_. But he couldn't be invasive. Couldn't violate his patients' privacy. He sighed as he received no signs of acknowledgement.

"I just wish I could make a difference _now_."

Connor's LED just span _red_.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor was scared. So fucking scared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aight y'all, took a few days, but chapter 2 is complete!
> 
> it's essentially just a the first chapter, but from connors perspective this time. with, a couple of extra bits, of course ;)
> 
> once again, warnings apply here! since this is connors perspective this time, the self-harm IS present, and although not particularly graphic, can still be triggering! do not read if it is a trigger to you! stay safe! it also features suicidal thoughts, as well as self-depreciation. so again, warnings apply!
> 
> also sorry for the weird spacing on this chapter?? i just straight up copypasted it from google docs, so it might look a bit weird?? and my lazy ass cant be bothered to edit it sdfjdsflsd  
> anywho, enjoy!

He shouldn’t have been able to see  _ her.  _ They’d gone to Kamski, got her removed. Kamski had  _ promised  _ him that she was gone, that he was safe, that there was no  _ trace  _ of her AI left anywhere within his software.

And yet.

Yet, she was here.

Watching him, from across the room. Eyes narrowed into judgemental slits, that all too familiar scent of flowers,  _ roses,  _ filling the air. Invading his senses, crawling up his nostrils.

Connor felt like gagging.

He didn’t move from his spot on the couch, not at first. He was frozen, rooted to his spot, eyes widened in horror, lips parted and agape as his throat choked on words, vocal modulator filled with static. 

She wasn’t supposed to be here.

She was supposed to be  _ gone. _

He was deaf to Nacho’s meowing. Oblivious to the shift in movement from Sumo, as the dog raised from his bed, padding over with a whine, obviously confused by the sudden shift in atmosphere.

Connor didn’t notice any of it.

His eyes were trained on Amanda and Amanda only, each artificial muscle in his body  _ rigid. _

“Oh Connor… How foolish to think you could just delete me.”

This wasn’t her. This wasn’t real. She was  _ gone.  _ She was supposed to be  _ gone! _

His body shook, vibrated, fingers scrabbling furiously at the fabric of his sweatpants, trying to seek something,  _ anything,  _ grounding.

“You’re not real.” His voice trembled as much as his shoulders, pupils the size of needles, vision growing blurry,  _ red.  _ Why was he seeing red? 

Amanda simply laughed. “Don’t be stupid, Connor. I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t real.”

His hands covered his ears, eyes squeezing shut. Trying to block the sight of her out. Trying to block the sound of her out. 

But he couldn’t block the scent of her out. Couldn’t block that floral aroma snaking it’s way into his ventilation system. 

He couldn’t  _ breathe.  _

His entire frame shook.

Footsteps. Amanda was moving. She was coming. She was coming for  _ him.  _ He wasn’t safe.

He- He had to go.

He wasn’t safe.

He couldn’t  _ breathe. _

He choked back a sob as he forced himself to raise on trembling legs, a soft thud startling him as he stood, eyes opening, wild as the focused on the source of the noise. 

Nacho.

_ Nacho,  _ she- She’d fallen off his lap.

She wasn’t safe either.

Amanda would hurt her. Amanda would make  _ him  _ hurt her.

“You have to hide!” He hissed to the feline, eyes squeezing shut once more, hands returning to their place over his ears.

He could feel Nacho against his legs, rubbing, purring. She was trying to get his attention, trying to comfort him.

But she was in danger.

Amanda would  _ hurt  _ her.

She had to  _ go. _

“Nacho, Sumo, you have to leave!” His voice raised, still shaking. He moved, blindly, away, out of the room. Away from Amanda.

He could hear his pets following him, a cry of frustration leaving his mouth. His nails dug into his scalp.

“Go! She’ll hurt you! She’ll-”

His thirium ran cold.

He could feel her.

Moving.

Following.

He had to go,  _ now. _

“Even mere  _ animals  _ won’t listen to you.” Her voice cut through his panicked breathes, he could feel her hand on his shoulder. He flinched, violently, jerking away. Staggering backwards, a broken wail escaping his mouth as he feel backward, over his own feet, straight through the bathroom door. Amanda sneered at him. “Look at you.  _ Pathetic.  _ Can’t even walk straight. It’s a miracle they didn’t deactivate you sooner.” A pause. 

Connor scrambled into the bathroom, fingers shaking as they grappled with the door, slamming it shut. Blocking her out.

She laughed from outside the room.

“But that’s not a worry. You’ll be deactivated soon enough, won’t you? You’re defective. You’ll be taken apart and analysed to see why you  _ failed. _ ”

“Shut up!” His words came out as a shrill scream, back pressing up against the bathtub, fingers gripping and pulling at his hair, at his clothes, at anything he could reach.

Nacho never ceased meowing at him from outside the door, but he didn’t hear her.

He only heard Amanda, only heard the sounds of his own frantic breathing, of his own sobs and wails as panic tore through him like a beast threatening to rip him apart.

He cried. Hands coming to rest upon his arms, tightly folded across his body, scratching and kneading at the sleeves of his hoodie with force that threatened to tear through the soft garment.

Amanda had silenced.

He couldn’t hear her anymore.

But he knew she was still there. Waiting for him. Waiting outside, for him to leave.

He couldn’t stay in here forever.

They both knew that.

He tried to focus on his breathing, listening to his ventilation component struggle to suck air into his systems, and cool down his rapidly overheating body. His stress levels sat at 90%.

When had they climbed that high?

He couldn’t.

He couldn’t focus. Couldn’t breathe.

Couldn’t  _ think. _

He was scared. So fucking  _ scared. _

He didn’t notice his hands drifting, reaching up toward the sink. 

Didn’t realize he’d taken ahold of Hank’s scissors, running the sharp blade across his palm, drawing thirium. Staining both the blade and his hand  _ blue. _

“What are you going to do, Connor?” She was  _ back.  _

Watching him through the gap in the door, that  _ sneer  _ still plastered across her face.

“Stab yourself? End your own pathetic life?” 

He didn’t listen to her.

Just watched his arms. Watched the scissors drift across the synthetic flesh there, slicing deep into his chassis, bleeding blue all over himself, dripping onto the ground.

Torn wires flashed white through the darkness of the bathroom.

It hurt.

It  _ hurt.  _ And he cried. He sobbed. He didn’t stop until Amanda was gone, until the pain had consumed all of his senses. Silenced his mind, silenced his rapid thoughts.

Until all he could feel was thirium dripping down his skin, all he could hear was the sound of his weakening thirium pump, all he could smell was the chemical scent of his own blood, all he could see were those white and blue sparks dancing beneath his chassis, lighting up the dark.

All he could feel was  _ pain.  _

His own gasps and whimpers soon out-sounded the sluggish beats of his thirium pump. 

What had he done?

What had he  _ done? _

He curled in on himself, tightening into a ball, head sinking into his bloodied arms as sobs wracked his frames, panic clawing at his chest once again.

He was supposed to call someone when he felt like this.

Supposed to tell Hank, or Markus or North.

Someone that could  _ stop  _ him. Someone that could stop him from hurting himself, causing himself harm.

Why hadn’t he? 

He was so fucking  _ stupid. _

He hadn’t even noticed another presence in the room.

He flinched as he felt a hand come to settle upon his shoulder, head raising from his arms jerkily, eyes coming to rest on the unfamiliar blurry form that had taken place at his side.

They- They were speaking to him?

_ DR400. _

His LED flickered yellow for a split-second as he took their words in, finding comfort in their voice. It was something to listen to, something to focus on. At least,  _ try  _ to focus on.

They were a medical android. A doctor, specifically. Not one of the newer, advanced surgical models. Just... a doctor.

“Did you do this to yourself?” 

Connor didn’t want to respond. Didn’t want to admit the truth. Tell them how weak he was, how pathetic he was. But he nodded. They-

_ He,  _ needed to tell the truth. It was his fault they were here in the first place, wasn’t it? If he hadn’t, if he hadn’t-

They were asking for his thirium levels.

Connor remained silent for a moment, before allowing himself to speak up, his throat tight. It felt sore. Everything felt sore. “Four… Fooooourty one percent.”

His head dropped back down into his arms, face pressing into his sleeve to stifle another sob.

He was stupid. So, so  _ stupid. _

And now this other android knew how stupid he was too.

He was an embarrassment, a failure, he should be  _ dead.  _

He was so tired.

“What’s your name?”

Connor offered a whimper, before responding, his voice as thick with static as before. He swallowed after the words left his mouth, feeling the tightness of his throat, his chest.

They needed him to remove his shirt.

So they could look at him better. Look at his  _ injuries,  _ the injuries  _ he’d  _ inflicted on himself.

A sharp groan left his lips as he moved, wrestling the hoodie off himself. He could feel the wires pulling beneath his chassis, feel the strain it caused on the cuts, it hurt. It hurt so fucking much. He wanted it to  _ stop. _

He didn’t look at Ryan as he assessed his wounds. Refused to face the shame, the embarrassment. He could feel tears welling up in his eyes again.

“I’m sorry.” He shouldn’t have done this. Should have just done as Amanda said, stabbed himself. Removed himself from existence, put an end to his pathetic life.

This DR400 should be working with someone else, someone who  _ deserved  _ the help. Someone who wasn’t a stupid waste of time, wasn’t a failure, wasn’t a-

“I didn’t-” His voice broke off as another fit of tears ripped through his frame, his head bowing as his shoulders shook. “I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He only stopped apologising as his voice fizzled out yet again, body too overcome with sobs to do anything else but cry. His hands curled into his sweatpants. Uncurled. Curled again.

“-She’s a good cat.” He only caught the end of Ryan’s words, eyes raising briefly to flick towards the door, listening to the mews, the scratching.

Nacho.

She was just trying to do her job. Trying to comfort him.

And he’d locked her out. Told her to leave.

He was so fucking  _ stupid.  _

“Her name is Nacho.” He spoke with weakness, his voice and face tired, exhaustion -whether it be emotional, or due to thirium loss- seeping into his limbs, making him slacken, arms limp as Ryan bandaged them. His eyes didn’t leave the door. “She was trying to help but-” He was crying again. His face pulled into a grimace as he tried to suppress the tears. “But I locked her out. Its her job. She's supposed to help. She's supposed to help but I didn't let her. I didn't let her.”

Again, he found himself repeating his words, over and over and over again until he couldn’t anymore. Until his throat began to  _ burn  _ from the pain, until Ryan was speaking again, talking, pulling him into a hug, trying to comfort. Calm him down.

He couldn’t calm down.

This wasn’t okay, despite what the other android said. It wasn’t fucking okay.

He found himself rambling again, speaking near incoherently, voice strained and panicked. He found himself beating his fists against Ryan’s back, clutching onto the other like a lifeline, burying his face into his shoulder.

Ryan was speaking again. Connor found it hard to listen, hard to focus. It was hard to remain focused on him, hard to silence everything else.

But- But he listened.

He did as he was told. He  _ breathed,  _ he breathed. In and out. In and out.

He wrapped his arms around himself as Ryan pulled away. He missed the contact already. Missed the comfort.

But Ryan was going to let Nacho in.

Going to let her do her job. Like she was  _ supposed  _ to. 

He clung to the cat the moment she approached him, grabbing her, pulling her into his arms. Face burrowing into her fur, inhaling her scent. Letting the soft pelt rub against his face and tickle his nose. Listened to her purr, running his hands over her rumbling chest, feeling the vibrations beneath her skin.

She was a good girl.

She was such a good girl.

She didn’t deserve an owner like him.

She- She could come with him to the AR.

He wanted her to come. He didn’t want to lock her out again. Didn’t want to turn her away. She was a good cat. She was just trying to do her job.

“I need to get you to the ambulance now, Connor.”

His eyes shifted back to Ryan as the other android spoke up. Connor hadn’t noticed before, but Ryan had a scar across his nose. It was faint, clearly old, but it was there. He wondered if the other had been assaulted in the past. If that scar was from abuse.

His thoughts dissolved as exhaustion began to take its hold again, his eyelids drooping, fluttering as they threatened to shut for good.

Something whined in the hallway.

Sumo.

He’d forgot about Sumo.

He’d  _ forgot  _ about Sumo-

Connor promptly burst into tears.

How? How could he forget? Sumo was worried too. Sumo was just trying to help as well. And like Nacho, he’d shut him out. What if something had happened to the dog? Someone had broken in or?-

He was pathetic. He didn’t deserve these animals. He didn’t deserve this house. This family. They all -Nacho, Sumo,  _ Hank,  _ deserved better than him.

They deserved better than him.

He- He needed to stop thinking that. Those were bad thoughts. 

He- He found himself talking, instead.

“I thought it was her.” He didn’t look at anything as he spoke, staring ahead into nothingness, eyes distant and unfocused. “I just. I just saw her. She was talking to me. I didn't know what to do. I was scared. She was there and- And telling me his worthless I am. And how pathetic I am. And she wouldn't stop. She wouldn't  _ stop. _ ”

He trailed off momentarily, fingers twitching, before he continued. "I needed her to stop but she wouldn't. I was scared. I didn’t know what to do. I was scared.”

He trailed off into repetition. Exhaustion claiming his weakened mind, his weakened body. He couldn’t think of anything else. Couldn’t say anything else.

He was so tired.

He just wanted to sleep.

He just wanted to  _ sleep.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, just one more chapter to go and will have written my longest fic yet sldfjsdlfs
> 
> if you liked, please do leave comments and/or kudos! they are v motivational to me and i have big phat praise kink so they make me very happy uwu
> 
> final chapter will hopefully be up soon, when i can be bothered to write it that is sdlkfjdsfklsd and then i can move onto other ideas ehehhehe

**Author's Note:**

> pls leave kudos/comments if you liked this as it helps inspire me to write more and might just be the wholeass driving factor for me to get a second chapter up slkfjdf
> 
> i like making my sweet robot boy suffer uwu


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